


The House of the Rising Sun

by FreeShavocadoo



Series: Demon deals AU [9]
Category: HiGH&LOW (Movies), HiGH&LOW: the Story of S.W.O.R.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angst, Flashforwards, M/M, Multi, Pining, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 09:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15660255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeShavocadoo/pseuds/FreeShavocadoo
Summary: Ryu and Lee take precautions to keep Ice safe and Smokey attempts to find answers.In the future, Kohaku is burdened with confusion and the prison gang attempt to fill in the gaps.





	The House of the Rising Sun

The dull buzz of the tattoo gun is the only sound in the otherwise silent room, running back and forth over smooth skin at a steady pace leaving smooth black lines in its wake. When the machine finally stops humming, Lee leans back with a satisfied smile, gently smoothing a clean towel over the back of Ice’s shoulder, the anti-possession tattoo in stark contrast to Ice’s deep skin. Ice hums before sitting up properly, having been lay on his front for half an hour whilst Lee insisted on making the tattoo perfect, Ice’s pain tolerance being more than adequate for such a small and relatively undetailed mark. He looks over his shoulder into the mirror and runs his fingers over the edge of the tattoo, nodding to himself and pulling his shirt over his head with a barely audible hiss.

“Careful.” Ryu chastises from his seated position, shaking his head at Ice. “It’s going to be tender so you need to be careful with it.”

“I’ve gotten tattoos before, Ryu.” Ice replies, his eyes twinkling as though the concept of Ryu worrying over something so minor was both funny and lovable.

“I know that.” Ryu huffs, folding his arms and moving his chin up, glaring at Lee who snorts loudly even though both of them smile. Ice suddenly moves over to the couch, flopping down and running a hand through his hair in an agitated motion.

“Why would Jesse be possessed?” His voice is strained, as though he’s been attempting to come up with a reason the entire time but is falling short, his hands fisted into his jeans like he’s stopping himself from bubbling over into excessive anger.

“I’m assuming there are multiple elements to Kuryu’s plan,” Lee sits beside Ice, his hand on Ice’s knee, “meaning that the possession of others is merely a stepping stone.”

“For what, though?” Ice’s voice rises, though his anger is clearly directed elsewhere, Ryu’s arm now linking around Ice’s shoulder whilst Lee squeezes Ice’s knee once more.

“Ice, darling, these people don’t _care_. They would probably argue that Jesse is lucky because he survived the ordeal. Many people don’t survive possession as it’s so taxing on the body. Some will be changed forever afterwards.” Lee’s voice is softer, his head resting now on Ice’s shoulder as he stares up at him with a sympathetic glance.

“D’you think Jesse will be okay?” Ice stares between them both, searching for answers.

“It will be difficult for him.” Ryu says plainly, stroking Ice’s hair. “But that doesn’t mean it will always be difficult. He has you, after all. He just needs to adjust.”

“It’s _Jesse_. You know what his temper is like already.” Ice whines, slumping onto Ryu so now the three were all practically seated diagonally.

“I know Jesse struggles with admitting how he feels but he’ll know himself that if he doesn’t, he’ll find things harder. Perhaps his friends from Rasen might help.” Ryu tickles under Ice’s chin, kissing the tip of his nose. “I know you worry, Ice, but things like that will sort themselves out.”

“Once we start pulling at this thread we may unravel more than you’d expect.” Lee stares at Ice, his eyes intense. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Yeah.” Ice nods furiously. “I don’t want this shit happenin’ to anyone else.”

“Okay then.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Staring at Tsukumo’s completely still and expressionless face was enough to make Kohaku go crazy, the dull fluorescent lights only succeeding in making it look and feel more like a morgue than a hospital room. Vaguely, Kohaku wonders how many times he must see Tsukumo in a hospital room, to see him bruised or battered or one step away from dead. Whilst being in a coma is better than him being dead, the uncertainty of waiting is somehow worse. When Kohaku thinks about the conversation that will undoubtedly ensue about how he came to know the identity of Tatsuya’s killer, he already knows he’ll struggle in his attempt to not crumble before him. It’s hard to imagine staring into a face that has only known suffering because of you only to tell them that you’ve given a part of yourself up that you can no longer get back, for someone who’s already gone. For what seems to be the hundredth time, Kohaku wonders how much better Tsukumo’s life would’ve been if he had never met Kohaku. The walk to the cemetery is a familiar yet dull one, wondering when his life became so morbid and lifeless. Even the flowers he places at Tatsuya’s grave seem to mock him, petals flying off with the wind._

_“I’m sorry for your loss.” Kohaku looks up suddenly, now cursing himself for not seeing the man sooner, especially upon noticing the sharp suit and angular face he was vaguely familiar with. Kohaku takes several steps back from the grave before facing the intruder._

_“What the fuck are you doing here?” He spits, marching past them on his way out of the cemetery, wanting nothing more than to separate himself from this person._

_“I’m here to warn you.” The voice comes from right beside him, Kohaku unsurprised that they managed to catch up with him almost instantly._

_“Warn me of what? It’s a little late for that.” Kohaku growls, turning to face the man properly this time, his eyes meeting a pair of yellow ones._

_“Kohaku-san, there’s no need to be so cruel.” Lee smiles, his hair so bright under the sun it gives the mistaken illusion of a halo, his sharp teeth biting at his lip slightly. “You’re making a terrible decision.”_

_“Which decision would that be, exactly?” Kohaku’s frown deepens. “The only mistake I made was handing you over my soul all those years ago.”_

_“I gave you what you wanted, did I not?” Lee replies, smoothing down his suit jacket nonchalantly. “Getting into bed with the people who lead to Tatsuya’s death seems more questionable, though, I have to say.”_

_“You don’t know anything.” Kohaku’s eyes have laser-sharp focus, trained on Lee with such ferocity it’s as if he is attempting to set him on fire by staring at him._

_“On the contrary, I do. More than you, it seems.” Lee stares at his nails before putting both hands in his pockets once more, smiling softly. “You don’t know about Tsukumo-san, do you?”_

_“What about him?” Kohaku’s nerves begin to creep up on him, the familiar grip of fear around his gut._

_“Oh, Kohaku-san. I thought I knew nothing?” Lee sings, making his way out of the cemetery gates at a languid pace. “I think Tsukumo-san of all people would resent you joining with Kuryu above anyone else.”_

_“Why?” Kohaku can’t help the way he hurries after Lee like a dog, wanting nothing more than to be told the truth, to know everything that could be used against him before it inevitably is._

_“Naïve Kohaku. Do you really think any normal human-being would survive the accidents that have befallen Tsukumo-san?” Lee turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow and a mocking smile. “No human would survive that.”_

_“But he’s in a coma?” Kohaku can barely make sense of any of the implications, his head reeling already._

_“Silly boy. He’s not in a coma. His mind is elsewhere.” Lee’s tone implies this is obvious, that Kohaku is oblivious to everything around him. “Think about it.”_

_“What, he’s a demon? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” Kohaku’s voice is pitched, like he’s ready to snap at any second, his eyes wild and his confusion only worsening his state._

_“You really are an idiot. You know what Kuryu are. So work back from there, perhaps.” Lee shakes his head, walking a few steps further before waving back at Kohaku with each finger, disappearing._

_What Kuryu are? Kohaku thinks. But that can’t be possible._

* * *

 

_It was strange, the way you’d only notice how prominently someone features in your life when they were no longer around you 24/7. No messy blonde hair tickling everyone’s neck, no obnoxious humming or bellowing laughter. Even the way there was a severe absence of bossy remarks and no sudden flashes of tattooed golden skin, as though all these memories were already starting to fade around the edges. Like the corners of his mouth turning upwards and his eyes crinkling before he said something snarky was slipping away, like the feeling of him flopping down onto the thin prison mattresses like everybody else’s was his own was fleeting._

_Like Jesse had never stepped foot into Rasen._

_Brown had been the one to rush into the cell they all piled into, his hair falling around his face and his eyes wild, telling them that Jesse had been dragged out of Rasen in handcuffs by the guards and crammed into the back of a truck. Not that it made it any easier to believe, with Akune trying to suggest that it could just be a brief transfer before a trial, or that someone hadn’t actually seen any of that and Jesse was just in solitary again. Mocai took it the worst, saying that Jesse had probably been transferred due to his violent behaviour and outbursts, as though the guards didn’t deliberately provoke him and as though his temper wasn’t now permanently inflamed. Miou was the one to suggest that he’d been taken to Sun Kings, the only other prison in the Sword region, notoriously violent even in comparison to Rasen._

_“D’you think he’s alright?” Brown mumbles into Pho’s shoulder, having slept beside him the past couple of weeks at his insistence that he wasn’t sleeping alone anymore. Apparently he felt safest beside Pho._

_“I’m sure he’s making the most of it.” Pho replies, knowing that Jesse is probably causing equal amounts of trouble and drowning his emotions with outbursts of aggression, only made worse by the fact he’s now even further away from any realisations regarding his possession now he has nobody to help him from within the prison. “You know how Jesse is.”_

_“Yeah, exactly.” Brown’s eyebrows furrow and he moves closer to Pho, circling an arm around him. “He doesn’t like being alone.”_

_“He’s a survivor.” Pho smiles sadly, petting Brown’s hair delicately and wishing the ache in his chest wouldn’t plague him so much. Jesse’s absence should’ve been predictable and yet none of them had anticipated it, now having to deal with it in their own separate ways._

_“We’ll see him soon.” Nakamon says with such absolutism, that it would be hard to disagree with him._

 

* * *

 

 

It was a rare occasion, Smokey stepping foot outside of the Nameless street. Usually it was an occurrence purely of necessity, rather than want. The streets outside were full of further dangers and discrimination, scathing stares and too many reminders of a life he could have, had he not been abandoned all those years ago. Seeing all of the excess the average person lived their lives with was just a cruel reminder that no matter how much they tried, the inhabitants of the Nameless street would never be considered to have desirable lives regardless of their familial bond. Plenty of people outside of their home wished to exploit this, of course, which was how he’d gone missing in the first place.

_Kain._

Smokey had been trailing him for weeks after their last encounter, not that he can really say it’s Kain he’s following. Who exactly it is, he’s unaware, knowing only that they are a member of the Kuryu group with a penchant for violence and intimidation. Currently, his temper seems to be getting the better of him again as he stands beside a car and smacks a younger mans head off the door, letting him drop to the floor and leaning down to no doubt scold him. Seeing Kain’s once soft face curled into anger is foreign, with Kain having never been one to turn to violence unless absolutely necessary, abhorring the use of violence to teach people a lesson and instead preferring carefully chosen words. No such display of benevolence is present here.

“Should you really be trying to covertly follow someone when you can’t even pay attention adequately?” The voice startles Smokey, not used to being crept up on.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your illegal activity.” Smokey replies dryly, hands fisted in his pockets, fighting the urge to punch a face he recognised but a person he did not.

“How gracious of you. I thought I made it clear before,” he leans forward to stare Smokey dead in his eyes, “that whoever you’re searching for in me is gone.”

“That’s not true.” Smokey sticks his chin up, glaring malevolently at the man in front of him. “You think this is the first possession we’ve seen on the Nameless street? Your kind do it often.”

“My kind?” His eyebrow raises, his eyes sharp.

“Angels.” Smokey tilts his head, a mocking smile on his face. “You think we don’t know about you?”

“I guess you’re not as worthless as we’d presumed, how nice.” He smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, absent the warmth they once had.

“Nikaido-san-,” the voice is weak, the younger man from before stumbling over and bowing to the man, who promptly smacks him with the back of his hand across his face.

“What have I _told_ you about interrupting me, Kirinji?” His voice is deeper, his posture indicating his raging temper. “You’d think you’d have learned your lesson already.”

“Is that really necessary?” Smokey can’t help himself, regardless of the other mans questionable behaviour or allegiance, this _Nikaido_ has a terrible temper and he’s never been one to watch suffering or gratuitous violence very well.

“You’re concerned about _him_? I think you should be more concerned about yourself, Smokey.” Nikaido smiles, waving Kirinji off with a moderately irritated expression.

“Why should I be concerned? You’ve already taken something from me.” Smokey stares unashamedly, not burdened with the toxic masculinity most men place upon themselves, knowing he wouldn’t be who he was without his family, his beautiful boys.

“Then why don’t you use your brain and consider what else I could take from you?” Nikaido’s eyes start to cloud over, like wisps of clouds are covering his iris until his entire eye is white.

“You can’t do much to wound a man after you’ve taken his heart.” Smokey replies, vaulting onto a nearby wall and over the other side, running without looking back. There was very little good that could come from looking back now.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so, obviously the two middle sections in italics are flashforwards and I hope they aren't too out of place etc.  
> Feedback always appreciated!


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